Description:It, for it is impossible to discern whether said wizard is a he or a she, is clothed entirely in a tall, hooded robe made of fine velvet, though the luxuriousness of it was slightly undermined by the disconcerting shade of mauve which happens to look exactly like a two-dollar whore would smell. Hands, impossibly long-fingered and tipped with razor sharp claws peek out from the billowing sleeves, clutching at a long staff of twisted wood topped with the skull of a rather sharp-toothed bunny. Long hair, a fine blond whips out of the robe, itself billowing in a non-existent wind, framing a golden comedy mask, the contorted expression of pure joy seeming at odds with the menacing figure of the wizard.

Equipment: Only The ROFLmancer's Staff, which is an impossibly twisted (in the impossible object) wooden staff, topped with the head of the dreaded Vorpal Bunny. Also has a normal gilded Comedy Mask, which has no magical powers aside from being made of Narrativium (and therefore indestructible to everything but Plot and Cool), hard to removed by people who are not the ROFLmancer, and keeping the ROFLmancer's face pretty.

Abilities: Incredibly powerful wizard , The ROFLmancer is the leading pioneer on the arcane art known as 'ROFLmancy', which is powered by memes, concentrated Narm, the dying screams of impaled babies, and advanced mathematics.

Backstory: Legend tells of a small suburban house in a boring looking street, where Ernest Scribbler, writer of jokes once lived. One day, on a day like any other, Ernest Scribble wrote the Funniest Joke in the World, and as a consequence, died laughing. It was obvious that the Joke was lethal. No mortal could read it... and live.
The original joke was buried deep, and all other copies burned, so that it would never be told... again. However, once written, the joke could not be suppressed. It survived, in one form or another, whispered by unspeakable terrors, in planes so far-flung so as to be inaccessible to all but the most intrepid plane-walker.
It was one such plane-walker who rediscovered the joke. And predictably enough, died, alone in that gods-forsaken place of darkness and gloom, but laughing all the same. Or not. For in that place of madness, something happened. Something terrible. No one knows exactly what. But it was from that event that the first ROFLmancer was born. This current ROFLmancer is number [redacted]. You will be made to fear the name.

Miscellaneous: Successor to the ROFLmancer that *cough* 'terrorized' the GLoG of old.